


Mi Corazon, Mi Vida y Mi Alma

by PhoenixSong13



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: First Love, Gay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 10:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17445362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSong13/pseuds/PhoenixSong13
Summary: Hector has been very secretive lately and Ernesto wants to.know why. Pre-Movie





	Mi Corazon, Mi Vida y Mi Alma

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind, it's my first story I'm this genre. I also used a translation so be gentle

Mi Corazón, Mi Vida y Mi Alma

 

When he couldn't find his best friend in the usual places, Ernesto de la Cruz usually knew that he could find him under the manzana (apple) tree just outside the town. It was a peaceful, quiet place and Hector liked that. His family life was far from peaceful and he sometimes liked to escape.

Ernesto had searched the whole town most of the morning without any luck so he was headed towards that place. He was concerned because Hector had been spending a lot of time there lately. Usually they spent almost every waking moment together, but not in the last week or so. He was beginning to think he was being avoided.

As he got close, he could hear the soft notes of a song that Hector had written being played on his friend's guitar. He could see Hector sitting against the tree as he strummed the strings. He looked… troubled as he sang.

“And I don't know what to do  
My heart is lost without you  
You consume my thoughts  
My soul calls to you

What can I do  
When all I think of is you?  
Mi amor, you are all I desire  
All I need…

Y no sé qué hacer  
Mi corazón está perdido sin ti  
Consumas mis pensamientos  
Mi alma te llama

Qué puedo hacer  
¿Cuando sólo pienso en ti?  
Mi amor, eres todo lo que dese  
Todo lo que necesito…”  
Hector's playing paused and the slighter boy sighed. He sounded much older than his 16 years.

“What is troubling you, amigo?” Ernesto asked quietly as he stepped around the tree.

Hector jumped as his head whipped up. He clutched the guitar a little tighter when he saw who it was. 

“Ernesto! What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice a couple of octaves too high.

“I wanted to see my best friend. You have been absent lately. I've missed you.”

Hector let out a breath and glanced down. He plucked idly at a string. Ernesto sat beside him and lightly nudged Hector's shoulder.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you were in love. Your song makes me think you have feelings for some special señorita,” the broader boy said teasingly. 

Hector said nothing but Ernesto could see that he had paled some. He looked severely uncomfortable and he seemed to move a tiny bit away from his friend. 

“You don't know what you're talking about, tonto (silly)…” Hector finally said, not looking at Ernesto.

“Oh, don't I? You've been distant this week, you are singing love songs, you seem listless. This has all the signs of amor no correspondido (unrequited love). She must be pretty special for you to be like this.”

Hector made a tsk’ing sound, a marvelous impression of his mother. He set the guitar on the ground beside him and pulled his legs to his chest. He always looked so small and compact when he did this, Ernesto would tease him and call him Señorita Rivera, much to Hector's ire. 

“There is no girl, Ernesto. Así que cállate (So be quiet). Can't I just want some time alone? Is there something wrong with that?” His voice had an edge to it and he had still not looked at his friend.

Now Ernesto really was concerned. Hector had never wanted time away from him before. They were thick as thieves, closer than brothers, known as El Dúo. This was highly unusual behavior for Hector. 

“Cálmese (Calm down). I never said there was anything wrong with it. You have just been acting strangely. Is it your father? Has he been ignorant to you again?” Ernesto asked, his brow furrowing in worry. Hector's father was an unpleasant man on a good day and a gilipollas (dickhead) on a bad one.

Hector shook his head. “No more than usual. I've just wanted some time on my own to think.”

Ernesto let out a breath, some small amount of relief coming over him. He really had a problem with Santiago  
Rivera. He treated Hector like scum under his boots. Hector was a sweet, kind boy and he didn't deserve that.

The broader boy wrapped an arm around Hector's shoulders and gently squeezed. He felt his friend tense in the half hug and he frowned to himself. He didn't relinquish his hold on Hector, bringing him close to his side.

“What do you say we go back to my house for almuerzo (lunch), huh? Mama would be happy to see you and tell you that you are far too thin, which you are. She made tamales, your favorite.” His tone was hopeful.

Hector shook his head again. “No, gracias. I'm not particularly hungry, Ernesto. You go on ahead. Tell mamita (mamma) I said hello.”

If Ernesto frowned any deeper, his mouth was going to slide off his face as his Mama would say Something was really wrong. It really felt like Hector was avoiding him and that bothered him a lot. He could accept that from anyone else but Hector.

He pulled Hector down so he was laying over Ernesto's legs, looking up in surprise. Ernesto's hand was on his chest, keeping him flat. That hand was solid and immovable.

“Ernesto! What…?” Hector started, fruitlessly trying to sit up.

“Are you mad at me? Have I done something to upset you? You are acting strangely and avoiding me. Don't try to deny it,” he said as Hector opened his mouth 

Hector glanced away, biting his lip. He closed his eyes after a moment and let out a breath, raising a hand to cover his eyes. 

“Ernesto… Please don't pry. Some things should stay tucked away…” he said softly, his voice shaking.

“I want to know what I've done to make you not want to be around me. You are mi mejor amigo (my best friend). I can take rejection from anyone but you. What have I done?”

“You haven't done anything. It's just… me. I need time to figure some things out, Ernesto. Please… let me have that time.”

Ernesto looked down at him, tracing his face with his eyes. The thought of not seeing Hector for any length of time was a physical ache to his soul. They were too close to just stop seeing each other so abruptly.

“Not without an explanation. I need to know why you want time to work things out. You owe me that,” Ernesto replied, refusing to just give Hector the easy way out. 

Hector groaned and covered his face with his hands. Ay, this boy! He could be so infuriating at times!

“Ernesto, the point of needing time is so I can figure it out before I talk to you about it!” Hector exclaimed, frustration apparent in his voice.

Ernesto shook his head. “No explanation, no time. I have a right to know what's troubling my best friend.”

The thinner boy exhaled slowly through his nose, trying not to lose his patience. Ernesto was naturally curious about things and he cared about Hector. Getting upset solved nothing. Well, since he really had no choice...

“Let me up and I'll tell you. Cruzo mi corazon (I cross my heart) ,” finally came the reply. 

Ernesto's let up on his friend. Hector sat up, rubbing his breastbone lightly. Ernesto had a strong weight in his hands and he could easily pin Hector down when he wanted to. Hector scooted a little ways away from Ernesto.

“Well?” the older boy demanded, his desire to find answers overriding his patience.

Hector didn't look at him. He pulled at the cuff of his shirt sleeve, a nervous habit that Ernesto had always found endearing. . He saw that Hector's cheeks had reddened a little and he was more puzzled than ever.

'i… I am in love with someone…” Hector started slowly 

“Que padre! I knew it! Why did you tell me there wasn't a girl, you liar?!” Ernesto exclaimed, slapping his friend on the back.

Hector just looked miserable. “It's… it's not a girl…”

That brought Ernesto up short and he stared at the other boy's back. Sure, he had teased Hector about being femenino (feminine), but he hadn't thought… Well, no wonder he had been so reclusive lately.

He must have been too quiet because Hector's voice sounded broken as he said, “Please say something… even if it's that I'm going to Hell and you hate me.”

His brain kicked into gear and he shook his head to clear it. Hector trusted him with this. He had known the other boy since he was six. Certainly, it wasn't the most ideal of situations but it wasn't going to stop him from caring about Hector. They had been friends for too long.

“I don't hate you, amigo. That does make it a little more difficult to deal with. A definite case of amor no correspondido, I'm sure.” Hector nodded. “Who is it? Javier Ruiz? Geraldo Estevez? Martine de la Reyes? He's muy guapo (very handsome), if you go in for that sort of thing.”

Hector wrinkled his nose. “And the biggest jerk I've ever met. No, gracias. Blech.”

The face he was making had Ernesto chuckling softly. He leaned against the tree, pulling Hector back down as he brought his knees up to cradle the slighter boy.

“No alcancé el objetivo (I didn't hit the target) with the other two, eh?”

The other boy shook his head. “Neither of them interest me. Ernesto… can we not talk about this? I don't feel like playing ‘¿Adivina Qué Hombre?’ (Guess Which Man) with you…”

“Why not? If you can't talk to me about this, who can you talk to about it?” Ernesto's fingers had found the raven locks of Hector's hair, sliding through the silken strands. He loved doing this, it had the most calming effect on him.

Hector's eyes drifted shut as those fingers stroked his hair. It felt so good and gentle. It was a balm to his turbulent soul 

“I'll figure it out. It's not as if he would ever return my feelings. He's a ladies’ man. Even if he liked men, he wouldn't choose a flaco poco nada (skinny little nothing) like me. I'm not exactly a catch, Ernesto.”

Ernesto tutted softly. “Don't do that, Hector. Don't cut yourself down. You have many good features. Your eyes are like… like brandy en un vaso en la luz del sol de la tarde (in a glass in the afternoon sunlight). Your hair is like a raven's feathers. You are muy bonito (very beautiful) for a boy. At least I think so, I imagine my opinion isn't as important as your Príncipe Encantador (Prince Charming) but…”

Hector was quiet for a long moment. “It matters more than you know…”

Those brandy eyes found Ernesto's and he wasn't sure why he felt his heart skip a beat or the strange feeling of envy towards the unknown man that settled somewhere in his chest. He continued to stroke his friend's hair, in no rush to move Hector. The weight of his presence was a welcome pressure on his legs 

“Well, then. You are beautiful. I say so.”

The thinner boy chuckled at the adolescent phrasing and smiled up at Ernesto. “Yes, dear.”

It was such an old custom between them to call each other 'dear” when they were alone that it was old hat now. Even knowing Hector's preferences, it didn't stop Ernesto from grinning and lightly tugging the lock of hair in his fingers. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves and apple blossoms. It was mid-spring and the tree was in full flower. Come fall, it would be heavy with fruit, which would go into empanadas and Senora de la Cruz's Christmas tamales, a special treat for her two boys. Only a few people from the town bothered with the tree so there was always plenty.

After some time, Ernesto asked, “Is it Gustavo Vega?”

Hector groaned. “No! Drop it!”

The broader boy pouted. “I just want to know what man has stolen your heart. You've been pretty unbeguiled before now.”

His friend remained steadfastly silent for a good minute or so. He could sense Hector was mulling it over, deciding whether to tell him or not. He sighed. 

“Do you really want to know?”

Ernesto nodded. “Si. I do.”

Hector sat up and turned to face his friend. He seemed shy suddenly as his eyelids half shut and he pursed his lips a little. Ernesto's heart skipped a beat again. This was a very strange situation.

“Well… I guess I could give you a hint…*

Before Ernesto could think what that meant exactly, he had a lap full of Hector as the slighter boy straddled his legs. That sweet mouth was on his in a passionate kiss just as quickly and Ernesto's breath caught in his chest.

Ay. Dios. 

Those thin, guitar-player fingers had tangled in his hair, pulling him in. His own hands fell to Hector's waist, drawing him closer unconsciously. He brought one hand up to the back of Hector's head, twisting in that ebony hair, and pulling his head back and exposing his throat. 

He didn't get the chance to sink his teeth into that beautiful throat, however. Hector threw himself backwards, his hand covering his mouth. His eyes were wide.

“I'm sorry…! It's bad enough that I'm going to Hell without dragging you with me... Perdóname, amado (forgive me, beloved)...” He stood,, grabbing up his guitar.

Though he felt a little dazed, Ernesto didn't want Hector to leave him. “Hector, wait…”

He could see the fear in his friend's eyes as he backed away, shaking his head. Hector clutched the guitar to his chest tightly. 

“Adios, Ernesto…”

With that, Hector Rivera took off sprinting towards town, leaving Ernesto de la Cruz wondering what had just happened and why his absence in Ernesto's arms had left an ache in his chest.

************************

Over the next few days, Hector seemed to vanish entirely. He was never home and he wasn't in any of the usual places, including the apple tree. His mother had no idea where he went but told Ernesto he seemed down and sad.

Ernesto desperately wanted to see him, talk to him. He couldn't get the kiss out of his mind, the intensity of it. It had left a deep ache inside Ernesto. It had led to erotic dreams that plagued him late at night. His fingers itched, to touch Hector. 

He was so confused as to what he was feeling. He didn't know if he was in love with the other boy or perhaps the idea of something so taboo. All he knew was that he had to talk to Hector. 

He was able to distract himself for a bit, helping his father at Sangre de la Cruz (Blood of the Cross), the cantina his family owned and operated. They were in the busiest part of the springtime so it was un poco loco (a little crazy).

It only distracted him for a little while, however. Hector sometimes helped at the bar when it got really hectic. It didn't feel the same without him there.

He found himself at the apple tree several times. He looked up at it and wished it could whisper what it had seen to him so that he could relive that kiss. He wanted to feel Hector in his arms again, the sweet pressure of his lips against his own.

He was fairly certain he had lost his mind.

Sábado por la noche (Saturday evening), Ernesto decided to take a walk around Santa Cecilia after he got done at the cantina. He was weary from work and feeling down. He just really needed to clear his head and be alone for a while. 

Just as he was approaching la iglesia (the church), he saw the tall doors open. His heart leapt as he saw Hector exit the holy establishment, looking around him before starting to walk in the opposite direction of his house 

Ernesto had stepped into shadow so Hector wouldn't see him at first. Once he started walking, the broader boy had hastened to follow at a distance. As much as he had wanted to see his friend, he didn't want to spook him. He wasn't quite sure where they stood, after all.

It didn't really surprise him that the thinner boy had chosen to go to the manzana tree. He hid behind a large rock that stood by the tree, out of Hector's peripheral vision as the other boy sat against the trunk.

He watched Hector cover his face with his hands. He looked exhausted and worn, though far from peaceful. He brought his knees up after a time and sighed.

“I know you're there, Ernesto. Quit hiding, chico tonto (silly boy).”

Sheepishly, Ernesto came into the open. “How did you know it was me?’ he asked. 

“You smell like ambergris, that expensive French cologne your father brought back from Texas Navidad pasado (last Christmas), and tequila. You've been at the cantina.”

It always amazed Ernesto how observant Hector was. He could spot the smallest stain, catch the lightest fragrance, and detect the mildest ingredients in a bowl of stew. It was a gift, really.

“Si. I was helping Papa. I had just gotten done when I saw you leaving the church. Having a religious crisis?”

Hector glanced away. “I've been asking God for guidance. Father was talking about sending me to stay with my abuelita in Mexico City for a while and maybe it's for the best. I'm not sure I can stay here feeling the way I do.”

It felt as though the bottom had fallen out of Ernesto's stomach. He felt sick at the thought of Hector leaving him. And that was exactly how it felt, that Hector was leaving him behind because he couldn't cope with his own feelings.

“You can't just go, Hector. You can't run away from me…’

Hector's head whipped up at Ernesto's words. He clutched his shirt cuff tight and Ernesto knew he had hit the nail on the head. Their eyes met and Hector let out a long breath.

“What happened the other day should not have done so. My feelings for you are ungodly. I'm going to Hell for kissing you… No matter how hard I pray, I can't stop wanting you. My only choice is to leave,” Hector said glumly, looking down at his knees.

Ernesto was silent for a long moment before getting down on his knees beside his friend. He took one of Hector's hands in his own.

“What if I want you to stay so I can find out if I feel the same? Hector, I can't stop thinking about that kiss… How good it felt to hold you. I can't say I understand this, but I want to explore it. I know it says it's wrong in la Biblia (the Bible), but nothing has felt more right. I have been with many girls---”

“I'm aware,” Hector imparted dryly.

“BUT none of them have stirred the response that you did,” Ernesto continued, speaking over Hector. “It was like… a song on the breeze, soft and sweet. I've never felt that way before. Do not fear that I am disgusted. I am… intrigued by this.”

Hector looked up, his breath quickening as he found Ernesto scant inches from him. Those dark eyes, the color of cacao rico y oscuro (rich and dark cocoa), gazed at him steadily. The scent of Ernesto's cologne filled Hector's senses and made his head swim. He reached out with his free hand, touching his friend's shoulder. 

“Ernesto…” he breathed out, cupping the side of Ernesto's face. 

The broader boy could not hold back any longer. He captured that mouth with his own, pulling Hector away from the tree, clasping the back of his head and drawing him close.  
He moved them so he could press the slighter boy down into the lush, green grass.

As their bodies pressed together, cadera a cadera y pecho a pecho (hip to hip and chest to chest), Hector felt his heart race. He could feel the answering pounding of Ernesto's heart, the rhythm matching his own. He moaned softly, his hands coming up to cup Ernesto's face, opening his mouth to the passionate kiss. 

Ernesto was lost in how it felt. So different from a girl and yet… so much better. Hector fit beneath him like they were made for one another. The planes of his thin, fragile body pressed perfectly to Ernesto's more muscular, bulkier ones.

He delved his tongue, tasting of tequila and menta (peppermint), deep between Hector's lips. He brought one hand down to his friend's hip, lifting upwards to press pelvis to pelvis.

Hector gasped as he felt the beginnings of arousal from Ernesto. It was too much and that awful feeling that he was damning them both came flooding back full force. He pushed at Ernesto's shoulder.

“Wait…! Er--Ernesto, w-wait…!” he gasped when the kiss was broken.

“What's wrong, cariño (sweetheart)? You're shaking…” Ernesto replied, concern in his voice.

“This… we can't do this. This is wrong…” Hector said softly, his voice trembling. He lay under Ernesto, not daring to move. “I don't want to damn your soul along with mine…”

Ernesto scoffed low in his throat, raising up on his arm as he looked down at him. “And what if I want to damn it myself? Don't be a martyr, cariño. You are not making this choice for me, I'm making it. I want to taste you more and touch you. You look so beautiful in this moonlight tonight, Hector. I find myself moved by you… Ay, Hector…”

Hector felt warmth in his chest as Ernesto told him this. He looked away, his cheek coming to rest on the grass. He closed his eyes, inhaling the earthy scent that met his senses. He truly loved Ernesto and that feeling was so very frighteningly strong. He just wanted things to make sense again. 

“Ernesto. What are you saying? Do you have any idea what it is I want of you?” he whispered.

“I imagine it's not different from what q man and woman have together. A tender embrace, kissing… haciendo el amor (making love).” There was such a suggestive note to Ernesto's voice that it had Hector blushing.

“¡ Cállate, idiota!” he hissed, covering his eyes with a hand.

“Why? Do you not want to make love with me?” came the reply, full of good humor and mirth. 

A long-suffering sigh came from Hector. “Of course I do, I just… don't need the whole world hearing...”

There was no verbal reply. If he hadn't felt the pressure of Ernesto's body against his, Hector would have thought that Ernesto had left. After a moment, however, he felt those lips on his throat, Ernesto's teeth biting and nipping at his tender flesh. He groaned, the action receiving a very favorable response from the thinner boy's body. That mouth was far too talented and Hector too inocente. Though he had dreamt of this, he had never been touched.

Ernesto had felt a thrill to his soul at Hector's admission to wanting to make love with him. It was always a heady feeling knowing you were wanted, but to hear it from this boy had caused Ernesto the desire to kiss more than just his lips. He wanted all of Hector, to possess and consume him.

Ernesto's month found Hector's Adam's apple and he bit down. Hector let out a sound between a moan and a cry that went straight to Ernesto's groin, the sound so very sexual. He was just this side of tearing the other boy's clothes off and having his way with him thanks to that.

Ernesto opened Hector's collar with eager fingers. He kissed lower, feeling Hector shiver under his touch. It made him feel so powerful to have the other boy beneath him, responding so favorably to him.

He bared Hector's chest, his mouth moving over warm, supple flesh. Hector smelled so good, like the incienso (incense) of the church. He found a nipple between his lips and he suckled at it hungrily, teasing it with his tongue..

“Ah! Ernesto! Please…!” Hector moaned out, his eyes closing.

Ernesto grinned against his skin. “¿Por favor? ¿Parar o continuar? (Please? Stop or continue?) What is it you want, cariño?”

Oh how he wanted him to continue but… “Stop, please… I'm not ready for this “ Hector replied, his voice trembling. His hands shook as they settled against Ernesto's chest.

Ernesto shook his head, kissing the hollow of Hector's throat, moving back up. He suckled at it and thrilled at the moan that escaped Hector's mouth.

“You want it… do not deny it, Hector,” he murmured. “If you think that makes you easy, it doesn't. It makes you a healthy, young man. You are at the age where sex is normal… Don't deny yourself…”

Hector lay there, a look of uncertainty on his face. He so desperately wanted Ernesto to claim him as his. When he spoke a moment later, however, his voice was firm.

“Not tonight. I'm not one of your many juguetes (toys). I am not going to be ravished here like this by a man who has more notches on his bedpost than teeth in his mouth.” 

Perhaps that had come out a little blunt, but Hector didn't want to be some one night stand for Ernesto. He truly loved him and he wanted to know that Ernesto felt the same.

Ernesto pulled back, a hurt expression on his face. “How can you be so cruel? You aren't just a notch in my bedpost. You are my best friend, more than that, even.”

Hector pushed Ernesto back as he sat up. He re-buttoned his shirt as he spoke.

“Then prove it to me. Not tonight, not like this. If you love me, show me, because I refuse to be a conquista (conquest).” He stood, crossing his arms over his chest. “Show me I'm different than those girls..”

With that, Hector moved past Ernesto, who grabbed his hand. He kissed the back of it and spoke with conviction in his voice.

“I will prove it to you, some way or another. You are different from anyone I've been with.”

Ernesto didn't see the smile that touched Hector's lips. “I'll hold you to that. Buenos noches, mi amado (Good night, my beloved).”

“Buenos noches, cariño,” Ernesto replied as Hector's hand left his.

It was a long while before Ernesto got to his feet. He swept his trousers off and crossed his arms, looking up at the tree. He breathed out through his nose and sighed. How on Earth was he going to prove anything to Hector?

He really felt like the slimmer boy was different from the girls he had dated (and pushed aside for the next conquest). He didn't know if it was love exactly, but he knew he cared for Hector and he took the feelings Hector had seriously. Ernesto knew that this was important.

The answer came to him like a lightning bolt. The one thing that tied them together; music. They both loved to sing and play. Music had the power to change a heart, to express what you found it hard to say. 

He could write a song! Except he was mierda (shit) at songwriting. Hector was the writer of the two of them, Ernesto was seriously lacking in writing skills.

But…. he knew that would mean so much to Hector. If he made the effort to write a song for him, Hector would surely see what he meant to Ernesto.

“That's what I'll do,” he said aloud. “I'll write a song for him. There's nothing to it, Hector does it all the time. I'll prove myself to him once and for all!”

With a renewed sense of purpose and a bounce in his step, Ernesto made his way back home. He had a long night ahead of him and he was determined to get started as soon as he possibly could. 

************************

By early Domingo por la Mariana (Sunday morning), Ernesto was questioning his sanity. He had written and rewritten so many words so many times that he didn't even want to hear anyone speak. He couldn't understand how it could come so easily to Hector and so difficult to him.

It was just poetry set to music and Ernesto had a way with words or so he had been told. But it seemed that he just couldn't manage a song with all of his vernacular.

“Mijo (my son), did you even sleep at all? You look exhausted!” his mother exclaimed, setting two bubbly hot bean, egg, and cheese molletes in front of him, along with a glass of fresh leche (milk).

Ernesto took a sip, wishing for a bracing cup of café but it was custom in his family not to drink any on Sundays. He really could have used the energy.

“I'm fine, Mama. Just had a late night,” he assured her, glancing down at his ink-stained fingers.

Elena de la Cruz narrowed her eyes. She always knew when something was troubling her son and when he told her half truths. But she didn't press the subject. He had his reasons for foregoing sleep.

“Perhaps you should stay home and rest. I'm sure Padre Miguel would understand.” She sat beside Ernesto, feeling his forehead for effect.

He shook his head. “No, I'll be okay. It's my own fault for losing sleep so I'll go to church.”

Mostly, he wanted to see Hector. They always sat together in church and then spent the afternoon singing and playing by that apple tree. Ernesto made sure to grab his guitar as they headed out the door an hour later.

Upon arriving at the church, however, Ernesto saw Hector's parents, but no Hector. He wasn't anywhere to be found. The broader boy approached Rosa Rivera.

“Perdón, mamá (pardon me, Mamma), but where is Hector?” he asked her, worry in his voice.

She touched his arm gently. “He's at home, he said he wasn't feeling well. Perhaps you could go sit with him, mijo? So he's not alone…”

She didn't need to ask him twice. He nodded.

“Of course I will. Let Padre Miguel know that I'm caring for him,” he replied, heading in the direction of the Rivera home in a hurry.

When he got there, he headed around to the back of the house, where Hector's room was. He saw his friend perched on the window sill, his one leg drawn up to his chest. His one hand idly played with the petals of a flower in the window box.

Other than looking tired, he appeared to be okay.

Ernesto set his guitar against the house. The sound broke Hector out of his reverie and he glanced up, startled.

“Ernesto! What are you doing here, you should be in church!”

Ernesto crossed his arms. “Your mother asked me to come sit with you since you weren't feeling well. You look fine to me, though.”

Hector looked down again. “I didn't sleep very well and I thought it would be rude to doze off during the sermon.”

Ernesto leaned against the flower box and glanced up at the slimmer boy. He looked beautiful in the mid-morning sunlight, the rays shining off his ebony hair. His eyes glowed gently and it took Ernesto's breath away. Before he had a chance to think about it, Ernesto reached up and cupped Hector's face, pulling him down for a kiss.

It was a comparatively chaste kiss next to the kisses from the night before and twice as sweet. They lingered together for a long moment before Hector broke contact.

“Ernesto…”

The broader boy held up his hands. “Lo sé, lo sé (I know, I know). I have to prove myself to you. I just couldn't help it, you're beautiful. I mean that, cariño.”

Hector laughed quietly. “That's not what I was going to say. I was going to say that was a nice way to start the day off.” 

“Oh.” Ernesto blinked and then smiled. “Well, I rather thought so.”

Hector leaned down and touched their lips together again. It amazed Ernesto how that simple action could make his heart speed up. He deepened the kiss some, grateful for the high wall around the house that hid them from view.

When they broke apart, Ernesto murmured, “You taste of dulce de leche…”

“Mama made it last night and I had some a bit ago…” Hector breathed out, his cheeks red.

“You taste as sweet as you look.”

Hector chuckled. “Such a sweet talker. I bet you say that to all the girls.” He fluttered his eyelashes.

“Silencio, chico loco (Hush, crazy boy). Have some faith in me here. You aren't one of those girls,” Ernesto said, leaning on the window sill. 

“No, I'm certainly no girl, despite my sister's best efforts to dress me up as one as a little boy, but I don't know if that helps my case or not. You say I'm different from all your conquests, but how do I know you won't toss me aside for some pretty girl who catches your attention? I love you, I don't want to be forgotten,” Hector told him, feeling as though he could explain it better today. He was so mixed up the night before that he had realized he hadn't been very clear.

“Hector… I could never forget you. I think about you from the time I wake up until I lay down to sleep at night. You are always first and foremost in my mind and that's even without the romantic feelings,” Ernesto replied earnestly. “You are so very important to me.”

Hector reached out and took Ernesto's face in his palm. He stroked his cheek with his thumb, the action gently and loving.

“And what if you decide I'm not what you want? I don't think I could live without you once I had a taste of being with you. I've built my life around you, amado. Without you, I am nothing.” Hector's voice sounded so very sad and it made Ernesto's heart ache.

“Don't say that. You are worth so much and make me a better person. What I mean is…”

He faltered, unsure of how to continue without sounding dumb. He knew of so many great qualities that Hector had but he didn't want it to sound corny or untrue.

Hector was so beautiful and genuine. He had a heart of gold and was so gentle. Music came to him like a symphony and he controlled the notes like a magician working his craft. He was magnificent.

Suddenly, the words he had fought so hard to find during the night came to him as if they had already been written. The tune he had struggled to pluck out on his guitar filled his mind and his heart. The song was the one he played in his heart for his best friend all this time. He grabbed up his guitar and played the first notes, his voice joining a moment later.

“Tus ojos son como brandy  
En un vaso en la luz del sol de la tarde

Tu cabello es el más negro de ébano  
Ambientada con reflejos azules y púrpuras

Tu sonrisa es la rama hacia arriba de nuestro amado Manzano

La música sigue en la estela  
De tus suaves pasos

Tu amor es una canción  
Y mis cuerdas de corazón rasguean a lo largo

Eres mi corazón, mi vida  
Y mi alma, cariño

¿Me seguirías hasta el cielo?  
¿Caer conmigo en el infierno?

Te doy mi corazón, mi amor  
Yo soy tuyo eternamente

(Your eyes are like  
brandy  
In a glass in the afternoon sunlight

Your hair is the blackest ebony  
Set off by blue and purple highlights

Your smile is the upturned bough  
Of our beloved apple tree

Music follows in the wake  
Of your gentle footsteps

Your love is a song  
And my heartstrings strum along

You are my heart, my life  
And my soul, sweetheart

Will you follow me to heaven?  
Tumble with me through Hell?

I give you my heart, my love  
I am yours eternally)”

As he came to the end, leaving the guitar strings shuddering to the finish, he dared a glance upward at Hector. The other boy clutched his wrist, biting his lip. There were tears in his eyes and his breath was shaky.

“Hector?” Ernesto ventured, worry in his voice.

Hector swallowed hard and tried to blink back those tears. “That was… that was absolutely beautiful, Ernesto… You wrote that?”

Ernesto nodded. “My heart did. It's how I feel for you. You are so very special to me.”

Hector leapt out of the window and launched himself into Ernesto's arms. Ernesto dropped the guitar as he caught the other boy and his lips were claimed in a deep, passionate kiss. It was in that moment that he realized that he loved Hector.

It was like the dawning sunrise, slow at first and then building with intensity and heat as it crested and peaked. He was so very sure now of his own feelings and how much he needed Hector in his life. His love for Hector was strong and ran deep.

Maybe he had always loved him. Maybe he had been too dense to recognize it before now. All he really knew was that this was exactly where he was supposed to be, holding and kissing the other boy.

When they parted, both panting for air some and flushed, Hector smiled serenely. He laid his head on Ernesto's shoulder, his arms around his waist.

“I believe you… I believe you love me and I'm not like those girls. You wrote a song for me… Thank you, amado,” Hector murmured gently 

“You are so much more to me than they were, cariño. I will never do anything to hurt you, lo juro (I swear it). You're everything to me,” 

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's embrace, for quite a while. They traded lazy kisses as they stood until Hector said, 

“Let's go inside… I might be persuaded to let you tumble me.” His tone was suggestive and full of promise.

Ernesto needed no further encouragement. He picked his beloved up and carried him into the house. It was the beginning of a romance that he hoped would last until death parted them and beyond.

FIN


End file.
